


what did the chickadee and phoenix say to the hybrid?

by deepestfathoms



Category: Beetlejuice (1988), Beetlejuice - Perfect/Brown & King
Genre: Alternate Universe - Wings, Discrimination, Gen, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Maternal Instinct, world building
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 18:07:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29970279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deepestfathoms/pseuds/deepestfathoms
Summary: Lydia meeting the Maitlands, but make it ~wing au~
Relationships: Adam Maitland/Barbara Maitland, Lydia Deetz & Adam Maitland & Barbara Maitland, Lydia Deetz & Barbara Maitland
Kudos: 6





	what did the chickadee and phoenix say to the hybrid?

**Author's Note:**

> wings:  
> Barbara- Phoenix  
> Adam- Chickadee  
> Lydia- Black flying fox-southern flannel moth hybrid
> 
> so i strongly advise y'all go to my Tumblr (yourdeepestfathoms) and go through the "wing au" and "world building" tags because this wing au is Way Deeper than the characters just having wings. it's a whole universe. it also explains Lydia's full design on there!

“Greeting ghosts,” Said the strange little fledgling that entered the attic. “I am Lydia Deetz. Do not be afraid.”

“Why aren’t you afraid of _us?_ ” Barbara asked.

“Because you aren’t scary,” Lydia said. “I mean, look at me in comparison.” She spread her sagging wings (did she ever lift them?), and Barbara realized there were four of them. “I’m probably the freakiest thing to ever walk among the avians. You got competition.”

Realization dawned on Barbara, but Adam got to it first.

“You’re a hybrid!” Her husband yelled, nearly flinging his sheet right off of him when he pointed to Lydia.

“Adam!” Barbara scolded.

“No, it’s okay,” Lydia said. “I prefer the term ‘hybrid’ over ‘mutant’ and ‘monster.’”

“I was gonna say it’s rude to point,” Barbara said, pushing Adam’s hand down.

“Ah,” Lydia nodded. “But yes. I am a hybrid. In the blood. Unfortunately.”

She spread her wings in a mock bow to them, and Barbara could see veins of white riddling the insides of the upper pair. She then winced, fangs flashing in the dim attic light when she grimaced in obvious pain, and let her wings go limp. They landed in a heap on the ground, strewn out like scraps of ruined cloth.

“Are you alright?” Barbara asked worriedly, feeling a flash of maternal instincts zip through her like lightning.

“Fine,” Lydia answered before the question could completely leave Barbara’s mouth, as if it were normal for her to brush off her discomfort when around other people. She shuffled her feet and tilted her head at Barbara and Adam. “Why are you in sheets?”

“We were trying to scare you,” Adam told her.

“You’re not doing a very good job,” Lydia said. “What do you look like under there? Are you horribly disfigured?” Her shoulders lifted, but her big bat ears remained completely drooped. “Are you like me? May I see?”

Barbara and Adam took off their sheets. Lydia’s expression dimmed.

“Oh,” Lydia seemed disappointed. “You’re pureblooded.” She sniffed. “No offense.”

“None taken,” Adam said. “I’m Adam, this is Barbara.”

“Oh, _woah_ ,” Lydia’s eyes dilated hugely, like a cat that just saw its owner’s foot move under the blankets. “You’re so _shiny_.”

Barbara blinked, then realized Lydia was talking about her. Even in death, her feathers continued to glow like fire. She extended one of her wings to Lydia.

“You can touch them, if you’d like.”

Lydia looked up at her in shock. “Really? You’re not afraid of me, like, contaminating you?”

“No...”

“Or infecting you with my ‘dirty blood’?”

“No.”

“Or ripping your wings out of your back like I’m a feral WingEater because I’m jealous of how pretty and normal you are and want to ruin all purebreds in an envious rage?”

“No! Do people really say that stuff to you?!”

Lydia actually laughed. “Wow, you really haven’t met a hybrid before.” She shuffled her feet. “But-- I can really touch them?”

Barbara smiled warmly at her. “Of course, sweetheart.” She nudged her wing closer. “Go on. I promise I don’t have Drop Feather Fever.”

“Even if you did, I don’t have feathers!” Lydia said, then reached out and brushed Barbara’s wing. Her touch was light and gentle, as if she were worried she may hurt her new friend, and her short, stubby claws tickled against the skin beneath the feathers. “Wow... They’re so soft! _And_ warm!”

“Yup!” Adam strode over, looking proud. “You, little bat-moth, are looking at a real Phoenix Avem! WAIT--”

Lydia leapt backwards and the mane of yellow-orange flannel moth fur around her neck and chest bristled like a startled cat.

“YOU CAN SEE US?!” Adam yelled.

It was only then that Barbara realized that Lydia shouldn’t have been able to see her or Adam. She had been so distracted by the adorable fledgling that it hadn’t dawned on her at all.

“Uhh,” Lydia’s fur settled. “Yeah?”

“But we were told that the living ignore the strange and usual,” Adam said.

“Well, perhaps it’s because I, myself, am strange and unusual,” Lydia said. “Also all of my internal organs are purple and I can’t have a period due to a ‘compromised reproductive system caused by faulty genetics,’ so I’m not exactly very far from the boat you’re rocking in.”

“Trust me, sweetie, the no period thing is a blessing,” Barbara said.

“Everything else is a curse, though,” Lydia said with a sad smile.

Barbara frowned at that, but before she could press on what she meant, Adam stepped in.

“Okay, well, since you can see us, do you mind leaving and never coming back?”

“Adam!” Barbara flared. She thought of not seeing this little girl again, and it made a cold pit open up inside of her and she couldn’t really explain why.

“Not her,” Adam said quickly. “Her family!”

Lydia scoffed. “We’re not a family.” She sounded a touch offended. “We’re father, daughter, and Delia.”

Furrowing her eyebrows, Barbara inquired, “Your mother, she...?”

Just when Barbara thought Lydia’s ears couldn’t droop any further, they somehow got even lower.

“She... She’s dead...”

Adam grimaced. Barbara’s wings tensed against her back for bringing such a traumatic experience up.

The good news, though, was that the role of mother was up for the taking. And since Lydia clearly felt anything but a parental bond with that Delia woman, Barbara knew it was at good as hers.

She could feel the mammary feathers and nesting season hormones coming in already! Literally. She imprinted on Lydia when she touched her wing. That was her chick now.

“Oh, honey,” Barbara murmured. “I’m so sorry.”

Lydia shook her head, making her ears slap around her face. She gazed around the attic with sparkling eyes, as if she were holding back tears.

“She would have loved this place,” Lydia said. “She was Vesper! Which, you know, explains,” She gestured to herself. “She would call me her ‘weird little moon,’ but it was never in a mean way. And we used to have our own little full moon festivals so I would grow up with proper Vesper traditions and culture! We would hang up all the blankets in the house on the trees and make these forts that we would burrow in and watch the moon from. She taught me how to properly pray to Valtiel and everything! And we would do the moon dances on the ground because I can’t fly, but she made the effort to learn how to for me. We couldn’t actually go to the festivals, though, because,” She gestured again. “She worried about me all the time and didn’t let me do a lot of things, but what we did do was amazing.” She then blinked out of her daze and shook her head. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to bore you talking about my mom.”

“No, it’s okay!” Barbara assured her. “We don’t mind!”

“Really?” Lydia tilted her head and her ears flopped over with the movement. “‘Cause my dad never wants me to talk about her. It’s basically against the law in the house. Among many things.” She raised her wings slightly and did a voice that was apparently supposed to be her cicada Cimex father, “‘Lydia, no talking about your mom! Lydia, no eating bugs, it’s weird and basically cannibalism! Lydia, no coming around me because even though I say I’m trying to change my views of you I still see you as an unrepentant monster who I fear will eat my throat out while I’m sleeping and it makes me guilty not because the way I think of you but because I fear of what you’ll do to society and I was the one who brought you into the world to wreak suck destruction on civilization!’”

Barbara and Adam stared at her in shock.

“Dads, am I right?”

“That’s…very concerning,” Adam said.

Lydia shrugged nonchalantly. “Everything about my existence is concerning, so…” Her face then scrunched up and she pressed her floppy ears against the sides of her head like she was trying to keep out a noise that Barbara and Adam’s Avem ears couldn’t pick up. “Oh, _ow_. Stop worrying so loudly! I’m okay! I’m, like, basically immune to it at this point!”

Barbara and Adam both blinked in confusion, but then Barbara understood.

“You’re a mind reader.”

Lydia pulled her hands away and smiled slightly. “In the flesh.”

Barbara wondered what that was like--

“It’s pretty cool, actually.”

\--to hear everyone’s thoughts, all the different ways they thought about you and judged you, possibly pretending they liked you when really they hated your guts.

“When you put it like that…”

“You surprise me more and more, Lydia,” Adam said.

“Better than scaring you,” Lydia said. “You guys are really cool. I like you. You’re probably the best thing about this stupid house.”

“This house is not stupid!” Adam blustered. He grabbed Lydia by the shoulders, making them lurch and the moth fur bristle, and spun her around to him so he could scold her. “It’s a classic Victiorian-- OWW!!!”

Adam ripped away from Lydia as if he had touched fire, while Lydia shrunk away, instinctively wrapping her wings around herself. Adam shook his hands in the air while flapping his wings in obvious distress. 

“Ow! Ow! Ow! What HAPPENED?” Adam yelped.

“Sorry,” Lydia whispered. 

“Are you okay?” Barbara asked her husband. He splayed his hands open for her, and she winced when she saw angry red blisters starting to form all across his palms. “Oh.”

“It isn’t lethal!” Lydia said, and she sounded very meek compared to the snarky girl that had been talking a few seconds before. “Well, I don’t think it is… But you’re dead, so it’s okay! The pain will go away within a few hours!”

“HOURS?!” Adam squawked, as if he were a parrot and not a chickadee. He made a woeful noise. “Just cut my hands off!”

Lydia’s ears drooped _even lower_. “I’m really sorry, Mr. Maitland. I should have told you.”

“That your really soft fur is EVIL?” Adam said, and Barbara knew he was playing with Lydia, now. However, the little fledgling didn’t seem to realize because she still looked anxious.

“It’s-- I take after the moth my Cimex side is from. A southern flannel. The worms have venomous hairs, so…” Lydia fluffed her collar of fur. “I do, too. And they sting _pretty badly_. But not all the time! Only when I bristle them. Thank the goddesses.” She shuffled her feet. “I’m really sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Adam assured her. “A little blistering never hurt anyone. Oh, look, boils! Wonderful!” He laughed. “It builds character!”

Lydia cracked a small smile at that. When her nervousness didn’t recede, Barbara opened one wing to her, beckoning her to come closer. After a moment of shock and delight, gauging if it were a trap, Lydia skittered over and burrowed herself into Barbara’s feathers.

She fit perfectly. 


End file.
